


Handle With Care

by ElliaLeira



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:02:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24141778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElliaLeira/pseuds/ElliaLeira
Summary: "I will be the one to kill you, Polastri. That is what I've decided." Villanelle nods her head solemnly, as if it's the most natural thing to say. "You will not know when, but I will make it beautiful. You deserve to have a beautiful death."Something flickers across Polastri's face, some emotion that Villanelle wasn't fast enough to catch, but the expression that it settles is nothing but genuine. "I think I would like that. Thank you."---An AU where Villanelle gets a new handler.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 5
Kudos: 54





	Handle With Care

**Author's Note:**

> First time posting, not quite satisfied with this... but I wanted to get the ball rolling. Enjoy. (Hopefully)

The London air is cold and wet, and Villanelle pulls her puffy jacket tighter around her frame. For such a big thing, it didn't provide a whole lot of warmth. Fashion over functionality, always, but the bite at her nose makes her wonder why she must wait out in the cold. Konstantin should be here by now.

'He is probably mad.' She thinks, rubbing her hands together. She brings them up to her mouth, puffing between her cupped hands to warm the frost off them. He doesn't like it when she misbehaves. Doesn't like when he has to clean up her messes. 'That is why he left you.' 

"Villanelle!" She hears him before she sees him, his big lumbering form cresting from the mass of bodies around him. He waves at her once, looking oafish in his layered jackets and padded gloves, before pressing forward through the crowd with a bit more urgency. 'He doesn't seem mad'. He smiles at her when they make eye contact, and Villanelle can't hold back her own. Maybe he is excited to see her. Maybe it'll be like before, back when Konstantin was her handler, and things were more fun. He calls for her once more, almost to her now, and he waves again with a loud laugh. She waves back now, bouncing a couple of times childishly, arms flailing above her head wildly. Maybe he's here to tell her he is coming back!

The thought, the moment, is shattered when Konstantin finally breaks through the last row of people, and Villanelle catches sight of the woman he tugs behind him roughly.

Wide, dark eyes fall on Villanelle as the woman seems to struggle to get her own two feet underneath her. She looks disheveled, her slightly too big clothes hanging limply from her thin body. Hair, once pulled back in what Villanelle could only assume was a neat bun, now barely contained in the elastic as stray curls reached towards the sky. She is pretty, Villanelle muses, in a sort of unique way. Korean, probably, if she had to guess, but there was more to it than just that. Pretty, she tries again, like a lamb waiting for the slaughter. Fragile.

"I do not see why I need another babysitter. I am a professional. I can handle myself." Villanelle speaks first, suddenly, her eyes never straying from the other woman, locked in an intense stare down. The woman holds longer than expected, but eventually her eyebrows furrow in a look of discomfort, and she diverts her eyes elsewhere. Villanelle notes the small gush of pride that swirls through her own chest, and she shoves her hands triumphantly in her pocket, smirk plastered on her lips.

"Oh?" Konstantin doesn't seem put off by her greeting, and his accent is thick and familiar, and Villanelle misses it, she decides. "Tell that to my bosses, they don't seem to believe that." 

"How can I tell them that when I do not know who they are?" Villanelle shoots back, glaring at the large man. "I have done such a good job for them, and yet they treat me like a child." 

"Would Esposito agree that you've done a good job?" Konstantin is quick to reply. Villanelle doesn't even flinch at the name, but screws her face into the most apologetic look she can manage. 

"He deserved it, he was rude." 

"That was not for you to decide." 

Villanelle scoffs at that, waving her hand dismissively. They've been over this a thousand times, and it was growing boring. "If they would just give you back to me, none of this would have happened." 

"We have talked about this. I am needed elsewhere, and you insist that you can be trusted." His large mitted hands come to rest heavily on her shoulders. "You have to walk before you can run. She," He nods over to the woman again, "is your training wheels."

"You said that last time." Villanelle groans as she shrugs his hands off her, making a show of dusting herself off. "All I did was remove my training wheels when I knew I was ready. I do not see what is wrong with that." 

"Villanelle." He started, his finger coming out to point at her accusingly. "You are to behave yourself, do you understand?"

Villanelle scoffed, fixing her arms across her chest in a dramatic pout. "I always behave myself." 

"You never behave yourself." His words were stern, but Villanelle could see the small twinkle in his eye betraying his affections towards her. "You cannot kill this one, there are no more chances after her." 

"Fine!" Villanelle huffs, finally utterly bored of this back and forth. "But only because it is you asking. And I will only try, there are no promises." 

Konstantin lets out a low chuckle at that, and Villanelle smiles, taking it as a little victory. "This is Polastri." He indicates, finally, towards to the smaller woman. "She is actually quite good, I believe you will like her." 

Villanelle tries to hide the contempt on her face as she turns to fully acknowledge her new handler, and she succeeds... mostly. "Polastri." She grunts with a jerk of her head. Polastri smiles weakly, her hand jutting out in front of her in an offering. Villanelle just stares, another contest, and another victory as Polastri slowly retracts the gesture. The Asian woman coughs once softly, politely, and mirrors Villanelle, her hands digging deep into her pockets. 

"Nice to finally meet you." Polastri says, her voice and face locked evenly in professionalism. "I've seen a lot of your work. It's... impressive." 

Villanelle sniffs flippantly, "Oh? A Fan?" 

"You... could say that." Polastri says, hesitation in her voice, a small smile appearing on her lips. "You've got a certain flair I can admire, I guess." 

"Thank you." Villanelle accepts the compliments with an exaggerated nod of her head, "I am the best at what I do." 

"She's as modest as you said she was, Konstantin." Polastri says, her eyes tearing away from Villanelle to address her superior. Villanelle prickles at this. 

"I am the best. Modesty is for other people, not for the best." Villanelle is aware of the warning look Konstantin is giving her, but she continues anyways. "You should feel honored to get to work for me." 

"With." Polastri corrects, and there's a look in her eye that's borderline fierce, but it's gone as quick as it came, settling back to neutral. "It's an honor for both of us to work together, I'm sure." The statement was a challenge. There seem to be many challenges with this one.

"I do not like her, Konstantin." She turns her back towards the other woman, arms crossing over her chest. 

"You don't have to like her." Was his reply, and his hand came to rest on Villanelle's shoulder once again. When she doesn't shrug it off, Konstantin smiles sadly at her. "Though it will be easier for you if you did. You will be seeing a lot of each other."

"I've met her Konstantin, that's all we needed to do, so let's call it a day." Polastri says, and she's already turning away as she speaks, her eyes lingering briefly on Villanelle. "I'll call you when I have a job for you." 

Villanelle pulled a face behind Polastri's back once she started to walk away, sticking her tongue out after her. "'I'll call you when I have a job for you'" she mocks in a high pitched, whiny voice. "Who the hell does she think she is?"

Konstantin just gave her a pointed look, wagging a finger in her face. "Behave."

\---

Villanelle huffs loudly in a pout, sinking down lower in her seat dramatically. Polastri doesn't even look up from her computer, her fingers typing furiously away at something Villanelle has no patience for. The smaller woman fumbles a hand gently around the table between them, blindly searching for her Styrofoam cup of coffee. Villanelle imagines reaching over and spilling the cup into Polastri's lap and all over the keyboard, an accident of course, but Polastri's fingers curled around the cup safely, and she took a drink. "I'm almost done. Just gimme a minute longer." 

The call had come not even three days later. Strictly business, to the point, when and where. Villanelle had to give it to the new girl, she knows how to keep things professional. Professional wasn't fun, though, and when Villanelle wasn't having fun... 

"You said that five minutes ago." Villanelle mumbles under her breath exasperated, her fingers beginning to work at the straw wrapper on the table next to her cup, shredding it into as many pieces she can manage. "Polastri, we have been here for twenty minutes! I am bored." She flicks one of the wrapper pieces at Polastri's face to properly articulate her point, and it bounces off the older woman's forehead. Villanelle pumps her fist dramatically, but it doesn't even earn her a bat of the eye. 

"Well entertain yourself for another minute, I swear I'm almost done." 

Villanelle huffs loudly, her arms crossing over her chest. She lets her eyes scan around the small coffee shop, the boring brown counters, the gaudy generic paintings on the wall. She examines the man standing at the counter, his nose nearly pressed against his phone while he waits for his drink. Younger, probably mid to late twenties. Muscled arms, handsome, and utterly boring. So much pretend strength, but when the fight actually came down to it... To life or death, Villanelle knew she'd crush that fragile strength easily. Her eyes drift back to Polastri, still typing away, still not paying any attention to Villanelle. 

"I could kill that man. Right now. If I wanted to." Villanelle says slowly, testing the words against the unchanging expression on Polastri's face. No reaction, no acknowledgement. Villanelle scowls, continuing, "I would slice his throat, I think. The walls could do with more color." She keeps her voice nonchalant, leaning back lazily into her side of the booth. She tries to not look as pleased as she feels when Polastri finally looks up from her laptop to glance over her shoulder at the man at the counter. Polastri hums after a moments consideration. 

"Could definitely use more color in here." Polastri agrees, before turning back to her work. "Too reckless, though. Too many witnesses. You'd be caught in an instant." 

"Oh?" Villanelle says, the challenge clear in her voice. "How would /you/ do it then?" 

Polastri's fingers stop, hovering over the keyboard as her eyes cloud over in thought. Her mouth opens, and then closes again, and there's hesitation for just a moment before Polastri's dark eyes settle on Villanelle. "If it had to be right here, right now... Poison. Subtle and hard to trace back to me." Villanelle decides she likes the way Polastri's voice sounds confident, with just a hint of intrigue. 

"Agh. Boring." Villanelle demonstrates by yawning loudly. "A child could do better."

Polastri eyes her like she's offended. "Hey, boring works. Boring gets the job done, and is perfectly acceptable."

"Maybe if you are a boring person." Villanelle pulls a face like the thought of it pains her. "I am not a boring person. I am extraordinary. You will see." 

Polastri snorts at that. "All I'm seeing now is your huge ego." 

Villanelle frowns, "You are rude, Polastri. Has anyone ever told you that?" 

Polastri finally closes her laptop at that, a barely suppressed laugh on her lips. "Lets get down to business, shall we?" Villanelle wants to protest, but her words are silenced with a pointed look. Polastri reaches next to her seat, pulling a single square of paper out of her purse. She sets it down on the table and slides it over to Villanelle. A postcard, Villanelle notes as she picks it up and turns it over in her hands. 

"How long will this take?" Villanelle asks, locking eyes with Polastri for another staring match. It was their thing, Villanelle had decided that for them. Polastri doesn't bite, however, and just rolls her eyes.

"You have three days booked for accommodations." Polastri folds her hands in front of her. "Fanciest place in the city, largest room, and a card has been left at the front desk for any room service purchases that you may rack up. Everything should be up to your standards."

"Konstantin would've gotten me better." Villanelle sneers, refusing to give Polastri the satisfaction of believing she did a decent job. Though, Villanelle had to give it to her, it was better than the last three that had came before her had managed.

"Konstantin is no longer your Handler. I am." Polastri retrieves another envelope from her purse, ignoring the bait, and pushes it over as well. "Here are your tickets, no lay-overs like requested, each one way, each under a different name. Be mindful of which passport you use for both." 

"I am not a child, you know." Her voice comes out as more of a pout than Villanelle intended. It felt almost like whip-lash, the fast change in Polastri from playful to down right bossy, and Villanelle struggled to keep up. 

"Well I've been told otherwise." 

A wince crossed Villanelle's face before she could stop it. The words stung. Not because Polastri said them, but because Villanelle knew where they came from. It stung, relentlessly, and with the pain Villanelle could feel the faint, burning bubbles of anger churn in her gut. He had left her. Left her like she didn't even matter. Left her, and said she was trouble. She was trouble and---

Polastri clears her throat loudly, snapping Villanelle from her spiral. "Look..." Polastri begins, the hesitance from their first meeting back in her voice. "I didn't mean-- I'm not trying to say-- agh!" Polastri groans, her head dropping into her hands in frustration. "I don't want us to fight." 

"Then do not say hurtful things."

"I'm sorry, I really didn't mean--" Polastri sighs into her hands. "This really isn't going how I planned."

"Maybe I am not the one who needs babysitting, it seems." It was a low blow, Villanelle knew, but it didn't stop the satisfaction from creeping in when the flash of hurt crossed Polastri's face. Plastering a smile on her face, Villanelle plucked the second envelope from the table and tucked it and the post card neatly into her jacket pocket. Taking extra care to scrape the legs of her chair loudly against the floor as she stood up, Villanelle gave Polastri a pitying look. "I'll contact you once it's done. Try not to mess up." 

Villanelle didn't even have to look back to know that she had left Polastri sitting there, her face a mix of embarrassment and rage, feeling like a complete idiot. 

She couldn't kill this one, no. But Villanelle knows more than one way to torture someone, and she just made it her mission to remove Polastri from her life, one way or another.


End file.
